


The Leo Project

by Death



Series: The Stars [3]
Category: The Evil Within (Video Game), Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Childhood Trauma, Cross Over, F/M, Gore, Horror, If you've played through Until Dawn or The Evil Within then don't worry!, Serious Injuries, Spoopy A F, This fic is a Hellshow lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:32:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5083201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Death/pseuds/Death
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Josh is arrested for the murders of three people and sent to Beacon Mental Hospital for a psych-evaluation, his close friends band together in order to break him out and clear his name. However, when they encounter a white robed burn victim, they are forced to split up. As they explore the hospital, horrifying and gruesome secrets come to light, and all hope of ever escaping is sliced away. They soon realize that death is an all too real possibility as they search for Josh, and the forces that drew him into the hospital may be far stronger than they had originally anticipated, with far bigger plans than any of them could ever imagine...</p><p>Part 3 in a series about time travel, sacrifice, and the power of individuality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be one HELL of a fic, and its going to get scary just in time for Halloween! SO BUCKLE UP NERDS because horror is my thing! 
> 
> And this fic may not seem like it relates to the other parts of the series, but it does, in the most unconventional of ways... Happy reading :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small introductory chapter, in which Sam deals with regret over past decisions...

▶ _Click. Click-click._  
_Maybe. Pennyrabbitbird._  
_Volume up…_  
▐▐ _Play._  
   
Her laptop was slow, an old model of a not so popular company, but she didn’t mind. She left it playing a cryptic yet heart felt song on her bed, and there she sat, her windowsill a cold place, realizing that ever since Josh was taken away she felt empty. And no one could put Sam back together again.

For seven days it rained, water pelting every roof of their town, and each one of her friends taking into account the omen that was the rain. On the eighth day there was no rain, and as Sam sat at her windowsill, looking down upon the empty street that stretched out in each direction from her house, she breathed out a sigh, hoping to release the apprehensive feelings swimming inside her. It didn’t worked.

Why did it not rain for eight days in a row? _Symbolic,_ she thought. _Pathetic fallacy or… something._

There were eight of them within their small group, all of them bound together by long fought battles with exam anxiety and high school drama. Their bonds were forged in the fires of heartbreak and football game triumphs. Study breaks and late night escapades. In lost bets and promises of a better hang out tomorrow. Each of them was their own person, bringing something to the group that made it function perfectly. If one of them was missing they all could feel it, and each of them knew - even before the first day of rain - that something was wrong with their world.

 **October 1st, Thursday, 2015.**  She remembered it like it was yesterday. The day the police crashed into Josh’s house and arrested him for the murders of three police officers. Only a month had passed since the disappearance of his sisters, Hannah and Beth, and already an even worse thing happened to him. He was facing life in jail, evidence piling up around him that linked him to the scene of the crime. It was an open and close case, and no lawyer Josh’s parents could find could clear his name.

“His fingerprints were on the weapon,” said one officer as he gave Sam a once over. She had gone to ask questions the day of the arrest. No one at the station seemed happy about that.

“No one knows where he was at the time of the murder,” said another, a woman with short hair and a nasty disposition. “He wasn’t home or with you or any of his friends.”

And then came the guilt, why had she not lied to them in her original statement? Why hadn’t she said the two of them had snuck out? She told herself afterward that she had made the right decision, that the police would have found out that she lied anyway, but it didn’t help.

Her laptop fell silent and the air in her room got heavy again, weighing her down with thoughts that the music was keeping away, and she reached over and hit the space bar. _Maybe_ , the song was called Maybe, and it started up again. She didn't remember where she first heard it, but the title alone made her think of Josh.  _Maybe_ , she thought. _If I'd done the right thing.. I could have kept you here. Fuck... What good was I?_

But the arrest was nine days ago, and his trial only five. It was the tenth of October now, and already Josh and Hannah’s disappearance weighed too much on her shoulders. She would never know what it was like to fall backward in time and change the past. She had to live with her decision to tell the truth, and it made her feel sick to her stomach.

Her throw-away phone vibrated on the windowsill next to her, making her jump a little as she looked to it. The sky was gray, offering no warmth from the sun to help her fight off October’s chill, and she cursed the earth for tilting the way it did every year. She wished it would just stop, stand still, let moments be longer. Maybe if it had when she was testifying then she could have done something to save Josh.

Her phone buzzed again, and she knew she had to answer it. It was her idea to buy cheap phones that couldn’t be traced. They needed to keep their conversations secret. Grabbing the thing before it could vibrate again, she flipped it open and up popped the group chat that all of her friends were a part of.

Two new messages were there, both from Matt.

 **M1: _-It’s a go._** The first text. When she read it her heart stopped.  
**M1: _-Holloway. 800._**

“Okay,” Sam whispered, letting herself breathe easy for the first time in a long time. “Now comes the hard part.”

She put both thumbs on the outdated keyboard as she began typing, putting the number 900 in the text bar before hitting send. After that, she wrote the word ‘Good’ with a question mark at the end and sent it to the group, within moments everyone was responding, sending the already chosen confirmation code, a simple music note.

 **E: -♩**  
**M2: -♩**  
**A: -♩**  
**C: -♩**  
**J1: -♩  
** **S: -♩**

“Thank God,” she said to herself, and she pushed away from the windowsill as she locked her phone, throwing it onto her bed before collapsing on it herself.  
The number that Matt texted the group was the time he would arrive at the spot where they would finalize their plan to break Josh out of wherever he was being held. Emily and Chris were the one’s who began digging through police files in order to locate Josh. Chris was always good with computers and programming, and it surprised everyone when Emily came forward and said that she could help too. It turned out that she was very good with computers as well, but Sam should have known. The girl had a 4.0 after all.

They had decided that once Emily and Chris found Josh’s files and found where he was that they would meet and discuss a plan for further action. They needed to prove his innocence. They needed to get him out of that place.

When Sam texted back the number 900, it meant that she would be at the spot, nicknamed Holloway which was a huge abandoned warehouse on the edge of town, by 10:00PM. Matt would be there by 9:00PM. Chris and Ashley at 8:30, Emily at 9:20, and Mike and Jessica at 9:00.

Tonight was the night. Everything would come together and all their planning would pay off. Most of them could drive and as long as their parents didn’t see them sneaking out the coming night then they were in the clear.

“We’re coming Josh,” Sam said, happy to be alone for the day as her parents had left town, and before she began gathering things that she might need in order to find Josh in the hospital he was taken to, she looked out her window again.

Her room was often a quiet place, walls soft red and photo's covering the walls, the silence only interrupted by indie music or the buzz of her phone signalling a friends message. She liked the quiet, but missed the sound of rain. It was almost as if the earth were mourning Josh’s arrest as well, letting its water coat the earth for seven days and resting on the eighth, falling silent for Josh’s sake.

She shook her head to clear it of those boring sort of poetic thoughts. She had had enough of the rain in actuality, and she sighed heavily as she closed her eyes and imagined the look of surprise on Josh’s face when he realized what was going on when they found him. His deep brown eyes coming to life as he saw her. His features grateful yet scared as the group rushed in. But mostly, Sam hoped, Josh would feel relieved.

“Just wait,” she said, more to herself than her mental image of Josh.

She turned away from the window and slipped into the clothes she wore when she knew she was going to be running. A track suit made of thin material that left her feeling agile and alert, its form fitting windbreaker a strong red and the paired leggings a dangerous gray. She felt triumphant even though she was chewing on her bottom lip nervously. She forced herself to calm down. Josh had more to worry about than she did, so she eagerly began packing her backpack, only pausing to put her hair back in a ponytail.

* * *

Sam didn't leave her house until the time she told everyone that she would be at the warehouse, and she was annoyed that her parents cared about her so much. They had called to make sure she hadn't been crying all day or neglecting the house too much, and the call lasted for far too long. It was already 10:00PM and the others would be waiting, so she drove fast, not stopping for too long at stop signs as her heart raced at the thought of actually following through with the plan to save Josh. They were breaking the law. Would they get away with it? We’re they smart enough?

“Easy Sam,” she sighed, trying her best to pull oxygen into her body “Easy...” She couldn’t let herself get emotional. She couldn’t let herself feel fear. If she did she knew she would crack. And as she pulled herself together, she arrived at the warehouse, the smell of rain too pure and nearly nauseating as its earthy tones contradicted the feelings she had inside. She felt rotten, and she... She needed Josh.

It was pitch black in the alleyway she parked her parents car in, and the car in front of her belonged to Chris. It was a small beat up thing from the year 2002, but it held a special place in everyones hearts as Chris had driven them all around countless times in that thing.

A memory of Josh came into her head, and it felt like a punch to the stomach.

“Don’t get emotional. This isn’t a game. Josh is in trouble. He’s innocent. Move Sam. Now.” Her tone was demanding, and it worked, her small self pep-talk giving her the will to turn the keys to the ignition and kill the car. She was left in complete darkness, and for a moment she wasn’t sure where to go, but then a flash of light came from the end of the alleyway, and Sam could tell that it was one of the boys from the group.

He motioned with the flashlight to come over, and Sam let out a shallow breath as she pulled the door handle to her car and pushed, stepping outside into the drizzle of the fall season.

“Sam,” called the boy, and instantly she recognized it to be Matt.

“Matt,” she called back, and she opened the back door to her car and grabbed her backpack, flinging a strap over one shoulder as she turned and began walking toward him.

“What took you? You’re half an hour late, we were worried, ” he asked, and Sam shook her head.

“My parents, they called, wanted proof that I was home and alright. I’m sorry. The call took way too long… Everyone else on time?”

“Yeah, everyones here.”

“Alright. I’m ready.” And with that Sam moved to walk past Matt, but he turned with her and grabbed her elbow, making her stop and turn to look him in the eyes.  
“Sam…” he began, and she looked to her feet, already knowing where this was going. “I know how much Josh meant to-”

“Matt I know how caring of a person you are,” she interrupted, and the boy fell silent. “I’m fine. I can do this. I’m thinking clearly, alright? Just… Lets just focus on not getting caught up in a mess that we can’t clean up.”

“Right. Gotcha,” said Matt, and after another moment of silence, he let go of Sam’s arm, and together they walked down the alleyway and through a door that lead into the warehouse.

“Thank you, Matt,” Sam said, quietly so that the others wouldn’t hear her, and he nodded his head, obviously understanding all that she wanted to say but was unable to.

“We’re all here for each other,” he said, and Sam knew he was telling the truth. She had to believe in her friends. She had to believe in their friendship. If she didn't, she knew that saving Josh would be impossible. 


	2. Coming Together

Chris tried his best to think about other things, but his thoughts always circled back around to two people. Josh, his best friend, and Ashley, his… best study partner.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. How long had he been sitting in the warehouse? It was a massive space, and they chose to sit in the one corner that had accumulated the least amount of rubble and broken glass. It was pitch black inside, the broken windows that seemed miles up the walls were mostly caved in and glassless, but no moonlight shone through. Thank God Ashley thought ahead and brought two flashlights, one for herself and another for him. The memory made him smile as he thought back to picking her up in order to get to the warehouse. She was wearing her favourite hat, not the one with pompoms that hung down on either side of her head, but the simpler one with pink and purple horizontal stripes. She looked good in all her hats, but the stripped one was Chris’s personal favourite.

 _No more Ashley or Josh, shit man pull it together, this is serious, don’t be nervous._ He scolded himself for being so errant. Thinking about Josh hurt too much, and thinking of Ashley made his head swim. He had to find balance, but his patience was waring thin as he remembered that they were all waiting on Sam's arrival.

Mike was leaning against a wall, his shoulder pressing into it roughly as Jessica paced slowly beside him. She was never good at sitting still for too long, and she looked hopelessly bored, her blonde hair parted into two braids that swayed on either side of her shoulders. Chris had always thought she was pretty, and though he knew it was mean he couldn’t help but compare Jessica to Ashley. And the more he thought the more he pictured the two in a fight to the death against one another, laser swords drawn and plasma shields alight, gritting their teeth as they swore at each other in Japanese or something.

 _One hundred percent epiciness level achieved!_ He smiled to himself and nearly laughed out loud. _Keep it together Chris… Oh who am I kidding, I’m bored A F._

He looked back to Jessica, and then to Emily who stood alone since Matt thought he heard something and went to check on the cars. It hurt seeing Emily and Jessica go at each other the way they did. They used to be best friends, that is until Mike came into the picture… Chris resented him for a while, simply because he drove Jessica and Emily apart, but he couldn’t deny that he made Jessica happy.

And finally in walked Matt, and behind him was Sam.

“Oh thank _God_ ,” Emily sighed, her voice high in annoyance as she pouted. “You know we’ve all been freezing our butts off, Sam, right?”

“I know guys, I’m sorry,” she said, her tone genuine and shameful as she found her place in the circle, and Matt joined Emily, putting an arm around her shoulder as she nuzzled in close to him.

“My parents,” Sam continued. “They called. Wanted to make sure I was still at home and that I was alright.”

“And?” asked Jessica, looking just as impatient as Emily did. Sam shrugged.

“They took the bait. They think I’m still at home.”

“Good,” said Mike. “We don’t need any holes in our stories. Our parents are our best alibis.”

The word ‘ _alibi_ ,’ it held an odd sort of weight to it, and the room fell silent, only the wind sending chills through the warehouse dared to make a sound. Chris thought for a moment about what they were proposing. They wanted to help, to prove that Josh wasn’t a murderer and to get him out of that horrible place they called a hospital. It made him feel sick with several different things: anger, hate, disgust, but what overwhelmed him the most was his fear, of the unknown and what they might find at the hospital, or the fact that if they were caught they might spend the rest of their lives in jail. But sometimes the truth was worth fighting for. Sometimes a single decision could change the course of ones entire life, and this decision, the one to go after Josh, that was the sort of decision that saved lives.

If the plan to save Josh was a fire, then Chris knew without a doubt that he was the spark. He looked to Sam, her eyes on the floor, and Chris knew that she was the one who fanned the flame. He looked to Mike, his hair and eyes as dark as their shadowed meeting place, and Chris knew that if the plan was a flame, Mike was the one who carried the torch. But why did he care so much? Of course he was friends with Josh, but not incredibly close, but then he remembered how closely knit they all were, and at the beginning of all their relationships to each other, Josh could be seen there.

And Chris thought back to his best friend and the text he had received the day after he was sent to Beacon Mental Hospital. October fifth, that day still haunted him.

_**“Innocent. Please. He lp. Theyre KILLING Me. Hooking Me Up to Things… Help. I Didmt Hurt… Anbdy… Please. Please Pls… -Josh.”** _

The memory of his first read through made him feel nauseous. His phone vibrated on that day, and he saw that an unknown number had texted him. The rest didn’t matter and it was all too painful, and Chris's imagination drove him crazy at night as he imagined what was happening to Josh while _he_ was safe in his bed. Josh was innocent. There was no way he could have done the things he was accused of, no matter how sick or depressed he got. Chris had grown up with him, they all had. They knew him, and Joshua Washington was not a murderer. Chris told the rest of the group about the anonymous text message signed with Josh’s name at the end only moments after he read it himself, and almost instantly they began thinking of ways to help Josh. They ended up deciding to break in themselves in order to save him. They we’re all crazy, but they knew they had no real choice.

Mike was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat as he put an arm around Jessica.

“So we’re all good on the plan then?” he asked, and he was met with shrugs and silent nods.

“For the most part, I think so,” said Matt, his dark skin and outfit making him difficult to see, and with Emily wearing a black leather jacket beside him they we’re practically invisible. They were smart to wear dark clothes, but Sam was wearing red. Maybe he should have texted her earlier to tell her to wear something dark… Oops.

“I guess we’ll each talk about it more in depth with each other once we’re on our way,” Mike said, and Matt nodded.

Then Mike got a look on his face, like he had just remembered something vitally important that might save a life as his eyebrows bunched together before shooting straight up his forehead. 

“Oh!” he nearly shouted, but the sound of the wind softened his voice. “Lets, like, maybe make codenames, to lighten the mood and shit.”

“You’re joking,” Emily scoffed, but Mike didn’t budge as he gave her a tired look. “Oh my god, like. Go eat _shit_ Mike I can’t believe you’re so annoying.”

“At least he’s got a creative bone in his body unlike _someone_ we all know,” Jessica sneered, and before Emily could retort Mike began listing the codenames he'd been working on.

“Ashley is Strawberry Shortcake,” he said, pointing at her and smiling, his fingers forming guns.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Ashley groaned, but Chris couldn’t help but laugh as Ashley gave him an annoyed look. “Don’t encourage him you dingus!”

“And Chris can be… Spock or something, I don’t know,” Mike continued, and Chris’s smile vanished.

“Oh my _God_ ,” he groaned, and this time it was Ashley’s turn to laugh.

“And Sam can be-”

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Mike,” she interrupted, even though Chris could tell she was enjoying his little show. “Lets just-” she paused, forcing herself not to laugh as she must have been picturing Chris with Spock ears. “Focus on our main objective.”

“Well it all boils down to whether the lodge is ready,” Mike continued, and Chris realized suddenly that Mike was like the leader of their group. He hadn’t really organized anything or helped out in a big way, but they all listened to him and valued his opinion. Why was that? He could be just as strong as Mike if he really tried. Well on second thought… Maybe he couldn’t. If he had a laser sword though there would be no contest, and at the thought Chris nearly broke into a smile.

“Yup,” Chris said, snapping himself out of his inner competition with Mike. “Me and Ash went up a few days ago. We’ve got food and water there to last for weeks. Beds made up. The whole nine yards.”

“And everyone knows their story?” Mike continued, and the group nodded. “Then thats that… We go to Beacon Mental Hospital tonight. We find josh… And we break him the fuck out of there.”

“And then we start investigating,” Sam added, and everyone looked from Mike to her as she tensed up. “One of our priorities is clearing his name right? We can’t forget that.”

“Of course not,” said Mike. “But right now, lets focus on actually getting _in_  to that hellhole. We can do this, guys... Everything is coming together.”


	3. Lollipop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got my wisdom teeth taken out a few days ago and I haven't been able to focus on ANYTHING let alone writing! So sorry for the seriously slow update (even though its only been 4 days I think?) but I hope to update every day or every other day, but this coming week will suck because my teeth our missing! So thanks for your patience with this fic and my others! :) So without further delay, heres another lil chapter!

Four cars, four teams, they split up as they all pulled away from Holloway. The meeting place served them well, and Matt was the one who cased it before they all met there.

He drove carefully since having Emily in the passenger seat meant she was hyper aware of every stop he made or pothole he avoided. She loved being driven around, but hated the possibility of crashing since she wasn’t in control.

As Emily pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket and opened an app, Matt focused back on the road. He had played a big role in forming the plan to free Josh, and he wasn’t surprised when the rest of his friends took what he said seriously. He found that he worked well with Ashley, the two of them deciding that they would need Four cars on the night that they saved Josh. Four cars meant more people for police to follow in case they were spotted, giving the car with Josh a greater chance of escaping. Sam had her own car, and would park in a small lot close to the back of the hospital, while Jessica and Mike would park their car in a lot a bit farther down the road, while Matt and Emily would park on a dirt road surrounded by the forest next to the hospital. Chris and Ashley could park wherever they wanted, and Matt was sure Ashley had a place in mind.

Then Ashley would be the first to go in, either through the front door or another she'd found round back when she visited the hospital the day before. She saw that no alarms were rigged to the front or the side door, so only a key kept them locked from the inside each night. She also saw that there were no security camera’s on the outside of the building. That made things easier. If she needed to she could break in through the front door’s and run to the security room which was a major part in next step of their plan.

They all had walkie talkies, and if Ashley made it to the security room she would look to the surveillance camera’s. Thanks to Emily and Chris, they knew exactly how many guards we’re on duty that night. There was eight inside the entire building, which didn’t seem like too many, but there were also eleven nurses and doctors as well. Every hour on the hour they’d switch posts, searching the halls or heading to their break rooms, and right after that was the perfect time for Ashley to tell Chris to move.

She would wait till exactly one minute after midnight, when the guards switched posts, before telling Chris to break into the hospital on the opposite side of the building and away from the front entrance. Once inside he would trip the fire alarm. He didn’t need to be quiet, and the more attention he drew to that area the better. If the security surveillance room wasn’t already cleared out by then, it would be after that, and if they didn’t then Ashley would have to come up with a way to get them out of the room. Most of the guards would check the alarm that Chris had pulled, while the nurses and Doctors would check the patients. Luckily, however, Emily found the fire drill protocol forms while going through Beacon’s data bases with Chris, and the first patients the Doctors would go to were the less dangerous ones on the main floor. Josh was criminally insane, he would be higher up.

Chris’s job would be done after pulling the alarm, and he’d run to Emily and Matt’s car, using the forest as cover. Ashley would call everyones walkie talkie’s and tell them the plan was a go, then Sam and Emily would go in through the emergency side door that would automatically unlock after the alarm was pulled, and Emily would lead them upstairs. She'd memorized every hall of the building purely from the maps she'd seen, and with her they'd find Josh’s room. His cell would be locked and they’d have to find the right key in the head doctors office, and that was the only real tricky part since they wouldn’t know how much time they'd have. And while Sam and Emily looked for Josh’s key, Jessica would run to the front entrance. From there the plan became one of three possibilities.

Josh would be taken to the front entrance of the hospital, and from there he’d either go with Sam to her car, Jessica to Mike’s car, or Emily to Matt’s car. Sam’s car was the closest, but if she had been seen by a guard then Josh would be handed off to Emily, and if Emily was seen then he would go to Jessica, even though her and Mike’s car was a bit farther away. Matt and Mike would be waiting at their cars, ready to start the engine and speed away. Their destination would be the old Washington Lodge, and they wouldn’t stop until they reached it. Whoever drove the car that took Josh away from the hospital would be stuck at the mountain lodge with him until the others cleared his name, and Matt knew more than anything that Sam wanted to be the one to drive Josh.

When they agreed to this plan they were signing a contract with fate that sealed away their lives. If something went wrong, if they misunderstood the manuscripts about the fire drill protocol or how many officers would be on duty that night, they were screwed. When looking at the plan from afar it seemed pretty alright, but had they missed something? When Matt overanalyzed he drove himself crazy, and he was sure Ashley was doing the same thing he was. The metaphorical contract they all signed, it could save Josh’s life or ruin each of theirs and make Josh's all that more difficult. It was a gamble, but none of them seemed ready to back down just yet… And then Matt looked to Emily.

* * *

“Look, there it is,” Matt announced, nodding with his head up the dirt road, and Emily turned her head, eyes widening as Matt assumed she was taking the idea of spending the rest of her life in jail seriously.

All around them was forest, deep and dark, highlighting the way each of them felt as they looked to the mental hospital growing on the horizon through the tree line. Matt squeezed the steering wheel as he looked on, imagining the hallways that Ashley would have to go through as she looked for the security room.

The car’s wheels jerked upward as he drove over a fallen branch, and the headlights swivelled along the road, revealing parts of the forest that we’re too dark to see before, and Matt sighed. This was horrifying, and the forest wasn’t helping.

“I don’t like this,” Emily said, and Matt shook his head.

“People do things they don’t want to all the time, Em.”

“ _Wow_ , okay don’t undermine my fear you _jerk_.”

“That’s not what I meant Em, I- Oh whatever. If it was you in there wouldn’t you want us all to come?”

“But I’m _not_ the one in there!”

 _She’s impossible,_ Matt thought to himself, and he didn’t respond, instead letting out a deep sigh as Emily rolled her eyes. What was her problem? Or perhaps the better question was why did she _always_ seem to have a problem? She hated too many people, she complained, she whined, she bitched, but in the end who was he to judge her? For all the bad that showed on her surface Matt knew that underneath was a layer of kind gestures and forgiveness. He liked to think of her as a lollipop, the kind that had gum in the center or some sort of gooey stuff that tasted good. The center was the best part, the inside was what counted, Like Emily. Sort of.

“I care about you Em,” he said, and he looked to her as he stopped the car, smiling as he forgot all about her outburst and possible unspoken desire to abandon Josh, and she looked back.

Her face looked like it was made of porcelain when the moonlight hit it the way it was, giving her a pale glow, almost like a ghost. She sighed, her eyes closing and her mouth forming a small frown before speaking again.

“I’m… Scared shitless Matt,” she said, and Matt didn’t hesitate to put a hand on her shoulder and pull her into him as he wrapped the other arm around her.

“Me too,” he said, his voice low in an attempt to make himself seem more confident than he actually was. “But the thing about fear is that it does one of two things to you. My dad said to me once, ‘you either wake up or you wake others up.’ I didn’t get it for a long time, but, you know, I think he meant that fear either turns you into a fighter or a mover. Fighters go against the fear, ignoring it, pushing through, you know? But the movers, they’re much more subtle, maybe even smarter, because fear makes them run, and it gives everyone else a reason to get their asses in gear. You’ll wake us all up Em. I trust you.”

“Matt,” said Emily, her voice straining as though she were trying not to cry. “That’s sweet and all… But your analysis was _shit_ , sweetie. Was your dad, like, _okay_ when he said that?”

Matt burst out laughing, and Emily pushed away from him, breaking into her own more subtle smile as she smoothed out her hair and looked in the rearview mirror to look over her face.

“Maybe you’re right, babe,” Matt laughed. “I don’t know what I’m talking about. But if this goes South, I’ll be ready to get you out of there.”

And happy with the way her face looked in the mirror, Emily sat back in her seat and looked to Matt. He smiled brightly at her as she rolled her eyes before smiling in return. She shook her head before she spoke, saying “thank you Matt,” before opening her car door. Matt followed and left the car, locking it as they both slammed the doors shut, and looking out through the tree line Matt could see Beacon Mental Hospital maybe a football field away.

“Alright,” he said, taking Emily’s hand in his. “Now we wait for Ash.”


	4. Memento Mori

Nearly the entire ride up to the hospital was spent in silence, Jessica playing with her braids as she sat with her knees to her chest in the passenger seat. She had wanted to put music on to distract herself, but Mike didn’t want to risk drawing attention to themselves, even though she promised not to play it too loud.

He was paranoid beyond believe, horrified of failure and petrified by the possibility of being caught breaking into a hospital for mentally insane people.

But who was he to be afraid? He was Micheal Monroe, class- _freaking_ -president, the guy who was bold and cunning and great with quick-witted insults. He would be fine, right? Yeah, of course, but no matter how much he talked himself up, a small something kept nibbling at the back of his mind, begging him to pay attention to the possibility of life behind bars and the eternal fires of his parents hate. So he shook his head and told Jessica not to play music.

He was bugging out, but Jessica looked almost carefree, and for some reason that annoyed him. He almost asked her why she didn’t seem like she gave a crap about doing the right thing, almost as if she were tagging along for the ride just for the hell of it, but then he saw her pull her phone out of her jackets pocket, the screen’s light dimmed, and swipe through her photos. He pretended he had his eyes on the road, making sure to drive carefully as he cautiously looked on to what she was doing, and when she paused on a picture of herself and Josh laughing at some joke as they smiled wide at the camera, Mike nearly choked up with emotion.

That picture was taken at prom. He was still with Emily at that point, and the two of them had been fighting all day, but as soon as they arrived at the hall where their prom was being held they fell back in love, and had the best night of their lives. He noticed Jessica though, laughing loudly and dancing the most vibrantly out of their entire friend group. Hannah and Beth had nothing on her, and out of all the possible photo’s she could have looked at on her phone, all the photo’s she had from prom, Jessica chose to look at the one of her and Josh. Maybe that was the only picture in _existence_ that she had of the two of them alone. She really did care, but for some reason, she didn’t want the others to know.

The car ride ended abruptly as Mike turned into his parking lot, and in perfect sync he and Jessica left the car and closed the doors behind them, their backpacks heavy with supplies that could come in handy in case of any number of obstacles. They stood on opposite sides of the car as they looked at the hospital, and something about the place gave Mike the willies, and not the fun kind.

“You, um, think this’ll work Mike?” Jessica whimpered, and he was shocked at how small her voice sounded.

“Don’t sweat it,” he said, puffing his chest out as he spat on the ground. “Spock and Shortcake got this one down. I’m sure of it.”

“Wow,” Jessica said with a smug smile. “You really are something else with your sense of humour, Micheal.”

“Mike The Humour Knight,” he said, smiling at her as he whipped a flashlight out of the side pocket of his backpack and held it to the sky like he would a sword, making Jessica beam up at him.

“I wouldn’t exactly say you’re the knight of _humour_. But whatever, this place gives me the willies,” she said, and Mike’s jaw dropped dramatically as he looked over at her.

“I was literally just thinking the same thing about this place babe, wow, we’re like, _connected_.”

“Oh shut up,” Jessica grinned, and Mike couldn’t help but smile back at her consistent light-hearted attitude. She was only like this when she was one of two things; drunk or alone with him, and to be honest he liked her in both scenarios.

But that didn’t matter. He had to focus on the task at hand. It was up to Ashley to signal them now, so they waited.

* * *

Something was horribly wrong, and both Chris and Ashley knew it the second they pulled up to Beacon Mental Hospital. It was deadly quiet outside, no sounds of cars on the road or even birds fussing about in the trees beyond. It was a total twilight zone, and Ashley didn’t like it one bit. She liked predictability, and what she expected was at least one guard patrolling the outer perimeter of the hospital, but there was none.

The hospital was a towering building, looking larger at night than it did during the day, and Ashley swallowed hard as they drew nearer in Chris's car. Only a few street lights lining the outside of the hospital were on, giving the sidewalks at its banks an orange glow as dried leaves were caught up by gusts of wind. There was an air of desertion about the place, and as Ashley looked over the hospital once more, she took in the total darkness of the hallways behind the rows and rows of windows lining the floors of the building. Normally there were lights on in every other window, Ashley knew this for a fact, since she had seen the place at night before.

Chris stopped the car, his wheels squeaking to a slow halt as they padded through a puddle near the sidewalk, and he gave Ashley a look as he raised an eyebrow.

“Is this what it’s supposed to be like?” he asked, but all Ashley could do was shrug. “I guess we’ll find out then,” he said, opening his car door and stepping outside. Ashley followed after him, reaching into the backseat and grabbing her satchel full of things she might need before exiting the car.

“Well… What do you think we should do?” Chris asked, and Ashley looked from him up to the front entrance and then back again. The front entrance, two doors wide and at the top of a small flight of stars, was a place that only _she_ would go through at this phase of the plan. She could sense that Chris was on edge, and knew that he would want to stay with her since something was off about the hospital.

“I think we should just stick with the plan…” she said, shifting her weight awkwardly as she rubbed her hands together.

“I don’t know,” he said, turning his head and looking up at the hospital. “I don’t want you going up there alone.”

“But I have to.”

“No you don’t,” he said, sounding tired as he stepped closer to her, his eyes still locked on the hospital.

Ashley took this moment to simply watch Chris, trying her best to not make the act seem creepy in her head. His glasses weren’t that thick, but without them he couldn’t see much, and she always thought he looked just as cute with them off as he did with them on. He had a small freckle on the left side of his chin, so small in fact she thought that even Chris hadn’t noticed it, but she did, she always noticed little things that no one else did, especially when it came to Chris.

 _Enough of that,_ Ashley murmured inwardly. _Hospital. Plan. Hello? Get going Ash!_

“Chris, I-” she began, but by the time she came back to the present moment Chris was already moving, walking fast to the front door’s of the hospital.

“Chris!” Ashley hissed, trying to whisper while still getting his attention as she ran after him. “Oh my God what are you _doing_?”

Chris was up the stairs in a flash, but paused as he covered his ears for a moment before continuing to skip every other step as he reached for the main doors handle. Before he could pull it open, Ashley caught up to him and grabbed his wrist. Suddenly a small buzzing sound burst in her ears before fading abruptly, leaving her head ringing as she covered one ear with her hand as she pressed the other to her shoulder.

“Wait are you crazy? I’m getting a really bad feeling about this!” she whispered, and she let herself relax as the ringing stopped. “What if they know we’re coming? What was that noise? What if they saw me when I was last here and they knew that I was lying about thinking to put my sick grandma in here huh?”

“You’re thinking too much Ash, the fear is getting to your head, I’m not letting you go in there alone after things in the hospital changed so much.”

“Chris we need you to stay outside!” she whispered, her voice breaking into a low yell every few words, and she cursed herself for being so loud. “I’m trying to keep us out of jail.”

“I know Ash I know, And I’m trying to keep us _and_ Josh out of jail! No one must be here! Just trust me, and… Do you mind?” Chris said, sounding patient but a little annoyed as he shook the hand that Ashley was still gripping tightly.

“Oh, right, s-sorry,” she stammered, letting go of his wrist and stepping back a little. “But seriously Chris... What about that weird noise we heard when we got up the stairs?”

“You heard it too then? Oh, well, what about it?”

“What if it was an alarm?”

And Chris was silent for a moment, considering her words as he pinched his chin thoughtfully between his thumb and the side of his index finger. His thumb was right over the invisible freckle, and Ashley paused for a moment. Chris’s body was hidden under a green sweater, and she bit the inside of her lip as she realized that it was her favourite piece of clothing that Chris owned. The street lights at the base of the steps flickered, and for a moment the world was drenched in sepia. Chris suddenly became distracting as he frowned slightly, and Ashley was lost in his features. 

She closed her eyes, forcing past memories and regrets out of her head as she reached for Chris’s hand, but when her hand fell into empty space where she was _sure_ Chris’s hand was, she opened her eyes.

“Nah screw it,” Chris sighed, and Ashley saw that he had taken a step back from her and was facing the door. “Pretty sure that noise wasn’t an alarm, so **BOOM**!”

And he grabbed the door handle, twisting it to the right before throwing all his weight into an almighty push that sent the door flying inward. It slammed against a wall on the inside of the hospital, and Ashley's jaw dropped as she jumped backward.

“Oh my **GOD**!” she yelled, ready to run from a security guard with or without Chris as she gawked at him. “Holy shit! Wh- Why? Just… _**Why**_?”

“See?” Chris exclaimed, and Ashley didn’t let her guard down as she continued backing away from the door.

“See what? You being absolutely _crazy_?”

“Well, _that,_ and the fact that this place is completely empty!”

As Ashley relaxed, her heartbeat falling back into a steady thump rather than a hammering gorilla, she realized that Chris was right. She walked to the open door and looked inside. There was no one, and the main foyer was pitch black save the light from the streetlamp's Chris let in, illuminating the floor in a door-shaped rectangle.

“Inviting,” Ashly grumbled, her bottom lip stuck out in a sad looking pout. “But jeez Louise, Chris! You scared the heck out of me! Don’t you ever do something like that again okay?”

“Alright, I’m sorry about that,” Chris apologized, and he didn’t attempt to dodge Ashley as she reached out and smacked his shoulder. She could tell he was holding back a smile, so she crossed her arms while giving him a castigating look.

“ _Ha ha ha_ … Hilarious. But we’ve got some serious problems to solve now.”

“Like what?” Chris asked, and he put his hands on his hips.

“For starters. The plan has gone to Hell, Chris. And _two._.. Where the hell _is_ everyone in the hospital?”

* * *

Jessica couldn’t believe what she was seeing as she walked up the grand steps that lead to the hospital.

“You’re telling us its just… Empty?” Mike asked, his flashlight already aimed at the open doorway, and as Sam came up to meet them, with Matt and Emily close behind, she gave Chris a confused look.

“What happened?”

“Who knows?” he shrugged, and Ashley stepped forward as she hugged her arms around herself, and Jessica knew it wasn’t because she was cold.

“Guys,” Ashley said. “Did you hear anything strange when you walked up here?”

“Like that ringing sound?” Emily asked. “Yeah I don’t know, I heard it once we got closer to the hospital, but it’s gone now.”

“We did too,” Ashley said, and Emily got a worried look on her face, but Matt remained calm.

“Do you think it was an alarm?” Jessica asked, and she knew it was a question that everyone wanted to ask.

“Maybe motion activated,” Matt added, and Jessica watched as each of her friends subtly moved away from the door that Chris had thrown open.

“I heard it too guys, and it _couldn’t_ have been an alarm,” Sam said, looking confident and ready for anything. “If anything it’s just feedback from our walkie's or... something.”

“Right,” Chris added. “Let’s not lose our heads.”

Involuntarily Jessica brought a hand to her neck as the other reached for Mikes hand. She found it instantly, and he took it into his own eagerly.

“Do you think we should come back another night?” Ashley asked, and Jessica watched as everyone considered the consequences of entering the seemingly empty hospital. But then Sam spoke up.

“We should do it,” she said, and Jessica felt Mike squeeze her hand as he stepped forward toward the door. She didn’t let go when she felt him move, and instead stepped toward the door in time with him. There was no way in  _Hell_ she was letting herself get separated from him. No way in Hell...

“Good call, Blossom,” he said, and Sam gave him a confused look as she took in her new nickname.

“What?” she asked, and Mike winked as he stepped through the door and entered the building, Jessica following behind, not letting go of him for a second.

“Your codename,” he said. “I’ve decided. It’s Blossom. The Power Puff Girl.”

* * *

Matt cleared his throat as he took in his surroundings, and thanked God Emily was still with him. The hospital was a cold place, and it smelled horrible. Where was that damn smell coming from? Emily didn’t look like she wanted to discuss it, and to be honest, Matt was happy she didn’t want to dig deeper.

There was so much to analyze, too many things to go back to and give a second glance as Chris lead the group through a set of doors behind a pillar close to the main receptionists desk. They walked through the hallway, the cover of night hiding their presence but making it difficult to see without flashlights. But they couldn't risk using them, because it made them far to easy to spot.

“The lack of guards is _really_  fucking with me guys,” Matt whispered as they rounded a corner, and no one had an answer that made sense, so no one spoke. “Doesn’t this place have, like, criminally insane patients in it? Wouldn’t we have run into at least _one person_ by now?”

“Eh!” hushed Mike. “Mr. Question guy, you’re freaking us all out, we get that this is fucked, but… I dunno, lets just get to Josh and be thankful that everyone took the night off.”

“If you say so,” Matt sighed, and after that no one spoke for a long time, only making noise when they bumped into a pillar they hadn’t seen in time or when they adjusted the sleeves they held over their noses. The place really did reek, and Matt was _not_  a happy camper.

 _And your nickname was dumb,_ he thought to himself, happy that Mike couldn't hear his thoughts.  _Mr. Question guy. Like, really? I mean, a cool nickname would be sort of nice... Maybe._

* * *

Another minute of walking passed, and Matt finally let himself fully take in the hospital as Emily grabbed his hand. It was an eery place, and no matter where they turned the hallways would always be tiled and white. The smell was appalling like nothing Matt had ever come across, and he assumed it was the same smell that a dead body would give off after a few days of drying in the sun. They turned down another hallway, window’s lined all the way down the left wall giving them a view of the world beyond, and Matt could see Mike’s car from where they were standing.

* * *

Every few meters a house plant was placed between the doors lining the opposite wall, and more than once Matt tripped over one, just catching it as he tried his best to silence his falter in step and balance the plant. If he ignored the smell and the fact that the entire place was a ghost town, then the hospital wouldn’t have been an ugly place at all. Maybe, if things were different, and Josh came to the hospital so he could get help with whatever mental issues he was dealing with, then Matt would have enjoyed visiting him in this place.

* * *

Time was starting to feel strange, and Matt scanned the walls for a clock. There was none.

* * *

The group stopped moving as they came to a door, and Chris pointed to the number mounted in its center.

“Here… Emily, is this it?” he asked, and Emily let go of Matt's hand as she walked to the front of the pack and stood next to Chris. “This one, right?” Chris continued, and Emily shook her head, her short black hair swaying on either side of her pale cheeks. 

“No,” she said. “I think this is room 208, its hard to see in the dark, but… Security is 211.”

“Oh, right, thanks Em,” Chris whispered, and again the group was moving.

“What are we looking for?” Ashley whispered. “This isn’t a wing of the hospital that has patients in it, and I don’t think it matters if we see surveillance feeds anymore. Maybe no ones here after all.”

“Ugh, we still need the security room,” Emily snapped, and Matt couldn't help but roll his eyes, grateful that it was dark enough to get away with it. “We need to get a better look at this place at least, _duh._ Like, everywhere at once.”

“Yeah," said Chris. "Exactly what I was thinking, minus the diva attitude." And the group began moving again as silently as possible, their unused flashlights begging to shed light on the hallway as they were jostled around uselessly inside backpacks, until finally the group ended up in front of the right room.

“Bingo,” Chris whispered, and Matt watched as he twisted the handle, letting go after pushing in slightly, sending the door gliding backward at a snails pace. A slow creaking sound wrung through the air, whining as the door inched backward and into the room. Matt looked to Jessica as she stood in front of him, clinging to one of Mike's arms as if they were in a haunted house, and as he looked back to Emily he sighed as he wished she wasn't so independent. But that was selfish of him. That didn't matter right now. They could get close to each other later.

“Man,” Chris sighed. “Real welcoming… _Reeaaal_ welcoming…”

* * *

Emily was the first inside, followed by Chris and Ashley, then Mike and Jessica. Before walking into the room himself, Matt looked to Sam, and she gave him a nod, telling him to go in first, and as he smiled at her a fear gripped his gut that made his hands start to tremble. What was happening to him? Out of nowhere he was horrified all over again. But his individual fear didn’t matter. The group was feeling this way too, he knew it, so he couldn’t let himself be the weak link who cracked under pressure. He had to be present in order to be useful, so he walked into the room with purpose, and the first thing he noticed was the abandoned chair in front of at least twelve faintly glowing monitors stacked awkwardly on top of one another.

This was a security room if Matt had ever seen one, glowing monitors blipping with red dots in the top left corner of their screens, spying on an endless amount of hallways all held within the hospital. Was the place really that massive? Matt couldn't look away as he scanned each one, finding that nothing moved on _any_ monitor. Each hallway looked the same and only minor differences set some apart, but what troubled him most was the sense of absolute isolation that came with knowing they were possibly the only ones in the entire hospital. He kept searching for signs of life, the flash of an officers flashlight or the sound of clicking shoes down the tiled hallways, but he found nothing. Just as he decided to ask if anyone else had seen movement on the screens, Sam gasped beside him. 

“Oh my God! _Look_!” Sam yelled, and everyone jumped at least ten feet in the air as Jessica and Emily screamed.

“What?” Jessica yelled in alarm, and when they all settled down enough to look at Sam, they found that she was staring wide eyed at one of the rows of monitors.

“There!” she yelled again, and the horror on her face made Matt’s knees lock and his stomach drop to the floor. He was shaking again, badly.

“What? I don’t see anything!” Mike yelled, and he edged closer to the monitors, blocking Matt’s view, but giving him a reason to find Emily and grab hold of her.

“Oh my God he’s… He’s all burned… He’s… Jesus _Christ_! He’s walking down this hallway! Look! The bottom left monitor!” Sam cried, her tone desperate, and Chris ran to the doorway as he poked his head outside.

“There’s no one there!” he yelled back, and he whipped his flashlight out of his backpack, flicking it to life and zigzagging it up and down the hallway, not seeing anything, and when Mike moved to join him Matt got a better look at the monitor.

His heart stopped dead in his chest, and he knew what Sam was talking about.

He couldn’t see it clearly, but something was definitely there. A face. _Twisted_ , and splotchy with _red_. Were they burns? He couldn’t tell, but Sam could. It was like she was seeing it clearer than he was. But Matt could tell that it was a man, and he was looking down the hall toward their room, walking in slow motion, and Matt could see the light from Chris’s flashlight running up and down his body.

“Sam!” Ashley yelled, running to her as they grabbed hold of each other and looked at the screen. “What are you looking at? _Please_ Sam we're all freaking out! I don’t see anything! There’s nothing there!”

“No! **Look**!” Sam cried, her voice choked and pleading. “There!”

She pointed to the screen, and the blurred out man turned his head, looking straight into the camera as Chris’s flashlight found his face.

“There’s nothing here, Sam!” Chris yelled. “There’s no one!” His words made Matt feel faint. Someone was there but the others couldn’t see him, and he was close. He was so damn  _close_ and they had no idea how horrifying he looked!

And suddenly, like a glitch in a low resolution video, the man's body blurred and flickered before disappearing completely. For a moment, Matt could have sworn he saw him smiling. Smiling as Sam pointed to him in the camera. Smiling as Chris's flashlight lit up his face. He knew he couldn't be seen by everyone. He  _knew._

“Wh-what?” Sam stuttered. “He’s gone! He just vanished!”

“I saw him too,” Matt said, speaking without realizing he had wanted to, and Emily gave him a look. He opened his mouth again to say that he had seen the man, but louder so that everyone knew.

“I saw-”

* * *

Something hard hit the back of his head and he couldn’t finish his sentence as time slowed down. He saw Emily falling to the floor beside him, eyes squeezed shut and her mouth open wide as if she were screaming, but he couldn’t hear her. He couldn't hear anything. 

He could see Sam out of the corner of his eye, her face pale and eyes wide in horror as both her and Ashley brought their arms up as if to defend themselves. What were they seeing?

He couldn’t see anyone else, and when he hit the floor after an eternity of falling the last thing he saw was Emily, her eyes closed and face relaxed as if she had passed out, but her head was moving, being lifted off the floor, a massive gloved hand gripping her by the hair and dragging her body away from him.

Someone was in the room, maybe even the whole time, and in that moment Matt found himself more confused than afraid as he felt warm liquid spray onto the back of his neck. Some got in his mouth and he tasted it on his tongue.

Blood… It was blood.


	5. The Butcher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note: And now comes the part where the horrors begin. Read on at your own discretion if you're sensitive to intense gore/violence! 
> 
> Chapter Playlist:  
> ~Clair de Lune (Debussy)

**Samantha - 12:06AM**

_I’m… Hurting... Oh, fuck... Where am I? Sam… Find out where you are… Why does, everything hurt?_

She could smell it. Rain. But it wasn’t as pure as it should have been. There was a sort of dark mustiness to it, a tragic sort of scent that only accompanied the dead. She opened her eyes and her body was overwhelmed with pain.

She clamped her eyes shut as she opened her mouth to scream, but she couldn't make a sound. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess. Her head ached and her legs felt stiff. She knew she had to find out where she was, but when she opened her eyes the sight of what was around her brought vomit rising into her mouth.

She was hanging upside down by her feet. When she looked to her hands that dangled above her head, she found that they were swollen with blood that refused to flow against gravity. _Jesus... My h-hands, hurt..._  With a painful jerk of her midsection she managed to crane her neck and look to her feet. She saw that they were tied at the ankles by a rope that ran to a beam running across the ceiling. She had been taken. She had been kidnapped from the hospital and separated from her friends. She was alone and all she could think about was how she might be killed.

_Oh my God… Oh my God. Where am I… What is-_

Her thoughts were interrupted by the smell of rain again, but now she realized what it actually was. The smell. It wasn’t rain. It was _blood_. Disgustingly sweet like chocolate but coated in rust and filth. Again she felt vomit rise in her throat, but she pushed it down. Her entire upper half was numb, but an unbearable need to get herself free made her breathing quicken and her eyes widen as they cleared and focused on the room. Where was she? She couldn’t tell, but as her sight came back into focus she realized that there were other things hanging from the ceiling around her. _Bodies._ Dozens of bodies. Some hacked up with meat hanging from their exposed ribcages, some missing entire limbs or completely skinned; others bound tightly in sheets and belts, blood seeping through the fabric and staining the white.

She looked around the room shaking, finding blood everywhere, the floor a reddish brown mess and teaming with rats and offal. It was like a butcher’s slaughter house, but the meat hooks kept hold of humans rather than animals. The walls were a rough looking dark green tile, and Sam couldn’t see any doors leading out of the room through the mess of bodies hanging around her, and she panicked hard, each breath abrasive against her chest as she heaved. 

 _I-I'm going to die._  She thought. Oh _fuck! Oh fucking **Hell.**_

She couldn’t _think_ straight. Couldn’t _see_ straight. Fear was clawing at her throat making it impossible to breath as black dots jumped in and out of view in front of her eyes. She was on the verge of passing out, she knew it, and as her lungs took one last gasp for air, she found herself praying that she _would_ pass out. She was in too much pain, and the things she was seeing couldn’t be real, but then something moaned behind her, and she froze.

Silence stretched on, and Sam focused on breathing as she looked around with wide eyes, refusing to move her head in case whoever tied her up saw she was awake.

The room was filled with bodies, all hanging by their ankles from the ceiling. She was only one of dozens hanging upside down, but she may have been the only one alive. The smell of the place twisted something deep in her centre into a tight ball and squeezed with all its might. She looked to the ground above her and guessed that it was a meter away, and as blood dripped from a wound in her head, rats began to gather bellow her, licking up the blood that fell to the ground.

" _Sam._ " 

Another moan sounded from the thing behind her. It said her name and fear jumped through Sam's body, shocking her into a stretched out position as her joints froze up.

She was shaking. Oh God she was shaking harder now than before and she knew she was about to be hurt. What was the thing behind her? Was it hanging upside down too? She couldn’t tell and it was frustrating. Her eyes hurt horribly. It felt as though someone had drilled holes in her head and poured salted water in the wounds. Her brain felt like it was oozing out from the top of her head as she hung upside down, and when she dared to turn her head slightly to the left to get a better view of the room, her lungs jumped inside her chest.

A man was standing to her left, right beside her, appearing out of nowhere. Something was horribly off about him. His skin was… _bruised_ ; battered and decaying in some areas. He wore what used to be a white tank top, the material caked in grease and blood, but the worst thing was his face. There was something metal and twisted layering his entire head like a helmet, and where he must have cut holes for his eyes, Sam couldn’t see anything underneath. He had no _eyes_. Spikes collared his neck, each one dripping with blood, and for a sick moment Sam thought that he might have worn the helmet on purpose. He wanted to hurt himself. He wanted to _bleed._

And then he flinched, looking down at her as though he could sense her eyes on him, and a pit of disgust burst inside Sam. For a moment he looked as though he were about to walk toward her, but after a beat he turned and walked away. Sam kept her eyes on him as he moved, shoving dismembered bodies out of his way as he walked into an open concept room that she hadn’t noticed until now, and it bled light into the rest of the area from a single hanging lightbulb. The walls to his room were brick for the first meter or so up, but from that point on it was yellowed glass all the way up to the ceiling. Inside the room Sam could see a table stained with blood and creviced with lashes from a heavy cleaver that stuck into it's centre. Hooks. They hung down from the ceiling on chains, and at their ends were bits of meat and bone. She was going to be sick, but then the thing behind her groaned again, and something bumped the back of her neck.

 _I can't take this anymore. I can't._ So she twisted her body once to the left and then hard to the right so that she could swing and see what was behind her, and when she did her heart nearly jumped out of her chest.

It was Emily, hanging by her ankles from the ceiling with a nasty looking gash on her shoulder dripping blood onto the floor. Without thinking Sam gasped, the air forcing its way into her lungs making her wince as the lack of blood in her lower half left her entire body aching. But she had to get herself down. She had to wake up Emily. Things we’re different now, she wasn’t the only one taken. For a selfish second Sam thanked God that she wasn’t the only one carried off to the hellhole butchering room, but as the thought faded and reality crept back into her mind, her momentum twisted her back around, and she saw something glistening on a corpse hanging in front of her.

What looked to be a long, sharp blade was sticking out form the side of a tightly wrapped body. Was it there before? No, it definitely wasn’t, but that didn’t matter because now she had a way out. The Butcher, she called him, was fucking sloppy. He thought he had her in his web, and that must have been why he didn’t bother with her when he saw she was awake. He was careless and left the only thing that could set her free only a meter away from her. She nearly smiled as tears pricked at her eyes. She would cut herself free and with Emily by her side they would run.

Her body involuntarily jerked backward, bumping into Emily’s unconscious body, and then swung forward as she gained momentum. Sam grunted silently as she pushed through the pain in her arms and reached for the blade. And _fuck_ , she missed it by a hair.

“Dammit,” she hissed, and something in the air shifted as she heard The Butcher shuffle on his feet somewhere in his dismembering room. “Don’t stop now Sam… Come on… You can do this… _Please_.”

She was nearly crying due to the numbing pain in her legs and arms by the time she had swung back and hit Emily again, but she didn’t hold back as she forced herself forward, and when she reached out her arm and made a grab for the knife, she caught it.

“Yes! Oh thank God. Thank you God, _yes_ ,” she whispered to herself in triumph, happy to hear her own voice form a sentence in what felt like ages.

Without thinking she looked to The Butchers room. He had moved away from his table, and now stood in front of an old music player. The name of the thing escaped Sam, but it looked like a big horn attached to a smaller box, and when The Butchers record slid into place on the box, Sam froze as she took in the song that came on.

 _Clair de Lune._ She had heard it for the first time when she watched an old movie with Josh. She wished more than anything in that moment that she could remember the name of the movie, but that song… It was a piece of Josh, and it gave her strength.

The first notes of the song played out softly, and Sam felt tears roll down her cheeks. Crying didn't feel weak in that moment. She wanted to live. She _had_ to.

She looked back to her suspended feet as she saw The Butcher walk through a doorway at the back of his room, and in a single motion she grunted and leaned foreward, reaching up with her knife and swinging it at the rope. It was sharper than she expected and it cut through like butter. She fell backward through the air, landing hard on her back with a painful thud sending rats running off in different directions as she bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn't let herself scream in pain. She'd get herself and Emily killed.

She took in a breath as she shook her hands. Life flowed back into them as blood found its course in her veins again, and the relief was almost nauseating. Daring to flex her legs she coaxed life back into them, fighting through the agony that each movement caused, and when she was confident that she would be able to stand she looked back to The Butcher's room. He was still gone. She then looked to Emily. She was still unconscious.

Sam kept her mouth closed as she turned onto her stomach, and with the palms of her hands, she forced herself up and onto her knees. Again she found the pain nearly unbearable, but with time it subsided, and after a few seconds she stood and looked to Emily.

The girls black leather jacket with fur around it's hood was ripped all over the place. Sam wiped tears from her cheeks as she thanked God that Emily was okay. The girl was lucky that her jacket was the only thing ripped up. Sam then looked at her own body and saw that she had tears in her cloths and cuts all over her body. Her favourite red tracksuit, torn and bloodied. Again fear rose inside her and she began shaking. If Emily hadn’t worn that jacket then she would have been just as hurt as Sam was.

The room stunk, but Sam had to move, walking toward Emily with the knife in her right hand as her left tried its best to block the smell from her nose. She looked back once more at The Butcher's room before she tried to wake Emily and saw that he was still gone, and just as Clair de Lune reached its iconic parts, Sam turned back to Emily.

“ _Emily_ ,” she whispered, but her voice was too muffled by the palm of her hand. She placed it on Emily’s unwounded shoulder instead and shook gently. The smell of the room hit her full force. Rotten corpses and freshly spilled blood. She was slowly sinking into a desperate daze. 

“Emily… Hey. Come on girl, wake up. Please,” she whispered, and suddenly one of Emily’s eyes began to flutter. It was as if she were fighting against something that was pinching her eyes shut, but when she finally opened them Sam was flooded with relief, but Emily took on a look of complete terror.

“Oh no, Emily. Don’t-”

But it was too late. Emily began to scream.

* * *

**Emily - 12:11AM**

All at once the smell of blood hit her like a hurricane, and by God it shook her to the core. Sam was standing in front of her, eyes wide and face bruised by whatever it was that took her into the room, but she was _upside down_.

“Sam! Sam wh- where are we? Why am I- What’s happening?” Emily cried, her body aching all over as she struggled to move her legs.

“Emily!” Sam snapped, her voice quiet and clipped, and Emily looked back to her with anger as she realized that Sam wasn’t answering her questions. “Emily you’ve got to be quiet. Stay calm. We’re going to be okay. But there’s a man here and-”

“Stay calm? Who’s here! Where’s Matt!” Emily cried, her voice a high pitched wine, and she could see that the sound of her voice was scaring Sam more than the bodies hanging around them. And then she realized something. Sam was talking about a man before. He must have been the one that brought her and Sam to the blood caked room. He tied her up and tore her jacket. He could be anywhere, and that was why Sam was being quiet.

“Oh my god Sam… What is _happening_?” she whispered, fighting hard to keep herself from screaming again, but before Sam could respond Emily saw something move in a room behind the girl.

A man walked in, his face beaten in and his eyes a gruesome and grayish yellow. Emily couldn’t help it. She screamed.

* * *

**Samantha - 12:12AM**

The sound of Emily’s scream made Sam’s stomach clench, and as she turned around, her worst fears were realized. The Butcher had come back, and he looked almost dazed as he watched Sam stand in front of Emily while the other girl screamed. And then _he_ screamed, his voice low and ground shaking like an animal before ripping into its prey, and in her fear Sam found the will to act.

She turned back to face Emily, jumping with both legs into the air as she slashed at the rope keeping Emily up. It cut through on the first swipe and Emily curled inward as she fell, landing on her wounded shoulder as she cried out in pain.

The cry did something to The Butcher and he flew into action, turning his body from side to side as if he were looking for something, and by the time he found what he was looking for Sam had gotten Emily to her feet and was yelling at her to move.

“Don’t stop! Your shoulder doesn’t hurt that bad! Look for an exit!”

Her voice was high and strained with fear and adrenaline. Her legs were shaking. Her arms felt as though they were made of lead, and then she heard the stomping footsteps of The Butcher and she looked over to see where he was. He was charging toward them, a sludge hammer gripped with both hands as he marched forward and raised it above his head.

“Move!” Sam shouted, and with two more steps he was on top of them, bringing the hammer down right where Emily’s head would be, but Sam pushed herself away from her before The Butcher could swing and both girls fell to the floor opposite each other.

Sam looked up to The Butcher and saw him raise the hammer from the ground, bringing up tile and rubble as he raised it above his head, and she realized that he was aiming for Emily.

Sam screamed as she pushed herself onto her knees and lashed out with the knife that she still clutched to with her right hand. It cut deep into The Butcher’s shin with a wet thud, and he shrieked as he brought the hammer down, barely missing Emily as she rolled to one side screaming.

“Run!” Sam cried, but Emily was already scrambling to her feet by the time Sam even thought to stand, as as she found her own will to move, The Butcher swung his wounded leg back and kicked forward, hitting Sam hard in the chest. 

She flew backward, the impact a baseball bat to the chest as she slid across the floor until she hit an angled grate that stabbed into her lower back. She cried out in pain as she squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t tell if she was breathing or wether or not she was bleeding, but she knew she was crying. She couldn’t feel anything but the pain, and when she opened her eyes she saw that The Butcher was stomping toward her, her only weapon still lodged in his shin.

 **"Y͎̱̤̻̹̰o̸̺͔u̴͎͕̞͎͍̥̤ W͉̱͓͖͖i̭̻l̠͢l̵͇̟̻͙̤̙̩ D̩͓̘̖̯̰̼I̻É͎̥͕̤!̝"** He screamed the words as if parts of his tongue had been _ripped_ away. Sam's entire world was pain. 

He raised the hammer above his head and Sam saw Emily standing in the corner of the room with her arms wrapped around herself. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open as if she were a zombie, unable to move or think or breathe. Emily was frozen with fear, and Sam needed her if she wanted to survive just as Emily needed Sam.

The hammer came down in a blur and Sam grunted as she closed her eyes and pushed herself forward, freeing herself from the tile that stabbed into her back, and slid toward The Butchers feet. She reached up with her right hand and gripped the handle of the blade that stuck in The Butchers bone and yanked it free. Again he screamed, its volume so overpowering that the bodies hanging from the ceiling swayed in a breeze of what felt like pure anger, but Sam was no longer phased. Something inside her had snapped, and she wasn’t afraid anymore. She was only desperate, and when she was desperate, she knew she'd do _anything_ to get away.

She looked to Emily again as she pushed herself to her feet and rushed into a standing position as best she could, falling into a laboured run as the ground shook beneath her. The Butcher was behind her, still screaming as he gripped the handle of his hammer as he worked to free it from the ground. He was seething with rage, filling up with anger and blood, his body growing as it swelled, but Sam couldn't stop moving. Her first instinct told her to run to Emily, but another told her to look to her left first, and sure enough, hidden behind swaying bodies in the left corner of the room, was a door. She had to choose. Emily or the door. _Emily or the door!_ It felt as though a timer was ticking down, and the universe knew that she only had seconds to make her decision.

Without thinking she began running to the door.

“Emily!” she yelled, her tone defiant and confident. “Come on I found a door!”

Emily didn’t move, and Sam was horrified that she might _never_ move. Emily's eyes were glued on The Butcher and Sam realized that in order to get her to move she'd have to guarantee a way out. As she reached the door she threw her weight into it, slamming her shoulder against it as her free hand grabbed the handle and twisted. It wouldn’t budge.

“Fuck!” Sam cursed, almost crying as her confidence slipped away. She looked to Emily and saw that her head was moving, following the movement of The Butcher, and before long Sam realized that he was walking right for her. She looked back and saw The Butcher charge forward with his shoulder out in front of him, and Sam screamed as she dove to her right, landing awkwardly on her shoulder causing pain to shoot through her body as it pooled in her lower back.

“Locked!” was all Sam could yell before The Butcher turned from the door and kicked Sam in the stomach, sending her sprawling across the floor before skidding to a stop a few meters away from Emily.

The pain was excruciating as it ripped through her stomach and drilled into her skull, but before she knew it she was pushing herself up and standing as she limped toward Emily, somehow calling out orders before she even knew what she wanted Emily to do.

“There must be keys Em. _Keys._ Find _keys._ ” Her voice was pleading even though she wanted it to sound demanding, and when Sam heard the stomping feet of The Butcher coming closer once more, Emily suddenly woke from her daze. Her eyes cleared and she closed her mouth as she shook her head from side to side and gave Sam a tearful look.

“I'll distract. Go. _Please._ Find the keys!” Sam shouted as she shook Emily's unwounded shoulder, and though she thought that Emily wouldn’t move, she did.

“Okay!” Emily yelped, her voice shaky and choked with dread. She then turned and ran into the room that The Butcher had gone into earlier, she must have seen something that Sam didn't. But now Sam was alone again, Clair de Lune skipping across its rhythm as the screams of The Butcher tore holes in her confidence.

She could die.

If Emily failed. 

She could _die._


	6. Whatever It Takes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow its been so long since I updated and I'm genuinely so sorry, but of course, college isn't a walk through the park! However, I promise to finish this fic and the others I've started on this account, so thanks in advance for your patience :)

**Emily - 12:12AM**

Emily could hear Sam crying out in pain as she continued running. She bumped into things and shoved hanging bodies out of her way as she ran to the back room.

 _“Ew ew ew ew ew_ oh GOD _**EW**!”_ Emily groaned, the smell alone was enough to make her pass out again, but she couldn’t stop even if she tried. Something kept her moving. She thought for a moment that it was her hopes to save both herself and Sam. Was she really that brave? Well fuck, she had no other choice than to be that brave.

“Keys keys keys,” she repeated the word over and over to herself as she ran. “Oh come _on_ Em! _Keys_!”

She had seen them before, when she first woke up there was a pair of them dangling from a hook in the back room that The Butcher walked out of. If she was lucky they would still be there, but what if she wasn’t? What if they had fallen and slipped through a vent in the floor?

“Don’t _fuck around_ Em,” she said to herself, angry tears burning in her eyes as desperation choked at her throat. “Find those little bastards.”

And with a few more shoves she was through the hanging bodies and into The Butchers back room, sniffling as the pain in her shoulder pulsed in time with her rampaging heart beat.

“Emily!” Sam yelled, and Emily heard a horrendous smashing sound like metal against soft flesh, and she wiped back around, horrified that she would find Sam’s head on a stick, but The Butcher had missed and his hammer was stuck in the chest of a hanging body.

“I’m looking!” Emily yelled back. She couldn’t see Sam, and that was the scariest part. It was as if she were alone, and the isolation made her feel stiff with fear as her chest tightened around her lungs.

 _Breathe breathe breathe breathe,_ she pleaded inwardly. If she didn't then she’d pass out again and Sam would die, so she pressed on, stepping over piles of rotting chunks of human and animal with her expensive black fur boots.

 _If blood ruins these boots I’ll freak!_ she screamed inwardly, and the thought of a hole or stain on her boots gave her the best distraction she could ask for. It kept her out of the place she was in. She couldn’t face the reality of death as she looked to the hook that once held the keys.

They were gone.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck _me_!” she yelled, almost laughing as she dropped to her hands and knees and began splashing through a puddle of blood underneath the hook that once held the keys. “I’m looking Sam! I’m looking!”

She yelled to her friend, the only thing standing between her and a sludge hammer to the skull, and just as she had given up hope, her fingers groped along something thin and cold in the blood.

“Oh my God!” she yelled, and just then the thundering footfalls of The Butcher came racing up behind her and she turned around. He was running to the room she was in. He must have caught on. Emily held her breath as if being still meant he couldn’t see her, and she gripped the thin thing she found in the puddle as if it would save her life.

“Throw it!” Sam yelled, and instantly something snapped into place in Emily’s mind. Without thinking she picked up the piece she found in the blood and stood, blood dripping from her wounded shoulder and a newfound sense of defiance gracing her face as The Butcher growled and blew into the room. With surprising athletic grace she dove to her left as The Butcher’s hammer swung for her head, and as she fell, she threw the keys as hard as she could past The Butcher and into the room with hanging bodies. And then she saw Sam. Alive. Still fighting for both their lives as she emerged from behind a hanging body and scooped up the keys at light speed, and then she was off, running toward the door she found.

Emily went to stand, but before she could The Butcher was in front of her. He raised his hammer and Emily’s eyes widened. All her courage had vanished and she didn’t know where it came from to begin with, but just as The Butcher grunted and went to let his hammer fall, he flinched as the sound of a lock disengaging clicked through the room.

Dead silence fell over the two rooms, and Emily could only hear three things. Sam’s breathing, her own breathing, and the beating of The Butcher’s heart as his head slowly turned to face the door that Sam had opened. His neck cracked and his body stayed still, but his head kept turning on its shoulders. Emily felt sick as she saw his eyes glisten.

And then came a rush of sound, booming through the rooms making Emily cover her ears as if they may bleed, and she was up, standing and stumbling past The Butcher who stood frozen in the doorway between his back room and the room of hanging bodies. He was still as a statue, looking to Sam as she ran through the door and looked back just in time to see Emily running toward her, dodging hanging bodies with tears falling down her face.

“Sam!” Emily yelled, and Sam looked to her, blood dribbling from her mouth, falling over her lower lip as Emily pushed a body out of her way. It swung backward, and was hammered out of the way. The Butcher was back to life, moving toward Emily as she ran for the door, and Sam waved her over frantically as she kept one hand on the handle, ready to slam it shut after Emily made it through.

“Run!” was all Sam could yell, but Emily didn’t need to be told twice.

With breathless effort she continued running, and with one final push she leapt forward, falling through the unlocked door, and with a grunt Sam pulled the door closed with a loud bang.

The Butchers body hammered into the door, and with surprising accuracy Sam locked the door with a different key and was at Emily’s side as she pulled her up into a standing position.

“We have to move!” she yelled, and Emily nearly rolled her eyes out of frustration.

“I know, Sam! I know! Christ, get off my back!” she cried, and she jerked her shoulder out of Sam’s grip.

“Emily! What is your damn problem right now?” Sam yelled, suddenly angry, and Emily wiped at the tears staining her cheeks. Her shoulder hurt horribly and her knees felt as though they had jagged glass jammed into them. Needless to say, she was hurting, and something about Sam’s brave attitude was annoying the absolute hell out of her.

“We’re alive, _okay_?” Emily groaned, and another slam against the locked door made both girls jump as they began running down the narrow hallway that stretched out behind them.

“Emily hold on! I can’t _believe_ you froze up like that,” Sam complained, and this time Emily really did roll her eyes.

“Who the hell do you think you are to lecture me, thanks _mom_.”

“No, I’m fucking _serious_ ,” Sam barked, and she stopped running as she grabbed Emily’s wrist and forced her to stop and look her in the eyes. “You have to promise me Emily. Promise me you won’t shut down again, I can’t do this alone. We’ll survive. Whatever it takes, Okay Em? _Promise_ me.”

“Okay! Jesus, Sam… Okay…” Emily said after a beat, clenching and unclenching her fists slowly, and after another moments hesitation she sighed and blinked away the last of her tears. “Whatever it takes.”


	7. Unafraid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bruh where to even begin! First of all thanks to everyone reading! I took a long as break in order to write more for some original novels I'm working on and I COMPLETELY FORGOT that I had a crap ton of stuff already written for my fics on this account! So I got to polishing some stuff up and filling in gaps, and I'm hoping to get back into the grove of updating like I was during the early school year! DON'T KILL ME LOL I'm sorry I suck I know! Seriously love to whoever is reading this note, you all deserve to have a great day. Thanks!

**Chris - 12:40AM**

He woke in a dark room, right wrist tied loosely to a crumbly brick wall. The only source of light was coming from somewhere outside room, a red lightbulb situated in the hallway beyond, and it left his vision blurry. If he could see his brain, Chris was sure it would look old and weathered, moth eaten and soggy like a long forgotten and abandoned picnic blanket. The ideas that popped up in his head didn’t make sense, and his tied up right hand felt numb as he blinked hard and wiped at his face with his free hand.

“Where…” he began, but his chest felt thick and heavy, so he let himself relax for a moment before trying to speak again.

“Where… Am… Hmmm,” Chris stopped speaking again as he felt out the inside of his head. He couldn’t remember anything. Why couldn’t he remember anything?

Calmly, he shook the wrist that was tied to the wall, and with a few good wiggles the stones loosened and the rope fastened to the brick snapped. He rubbed at his sore hand and thought for a moment, shockingly relaxed as he sat up straighter and crossed his legs in front of himself.

“Where am I,” he said aloud, almost forcefully, yet still unafraid as he cradled his sore wrist. “Where am-”

And then, in a moment of complete and surreal shock, he remembered everything. Sam yelling about the man she could see on the computer monitors of the hospitals surveillance room. Running to the hallway only to see an empty length of corridor. Ashley screaming.

“Ashley!” he yelled, and he was up in a flash, groaning as his legs protested and he shook the pain out of his body. How long had he been out? He remembered everything up until he ran back to the surveillance room after Emily and Ashley began screaming, and he saw… He saw…

“Oh god…” he couldn’t live with the memory. There was a ghostly figure, see through and pale, but the burns on his face were rugged and an angry red. Beside the figure stood a towering monster with a misshapen head and a bloodied leather apron. Was it real? How could any of it have been real? Matt was knocked unconscious and Jessica _literally_ fell through the floor somehow, Ashley was backing away from the giant and then… Chris couldn’t remember after that, he was waking up in the red lit room and his right hand was tied to the wall and everything became so _real_ in a flash of revelation. He wasn’t in the hospital anymore. He couldn’t be. Instead he was in some sort of nightmare, and to make matters worse, he was alone.

“But if I’m alone, then…”

Chris’s voice faltered as his mind fell back on the two people he thought about most. “Josh… Ash…”

Things were starting to make sense now. In the single text Josh managed to get to Chris, it said that people were hooking him up to things and hurting him. Maybe this was some sort of mad house, the kind one saw in horror movies like Hostel or the Saw series, a place where people enjoyed watching innocents get tortured. It was then that his heart began beating faster, and again he thought of those same two people. Josh and Ashley. Josh and God damn _Ashley_. He had to protect them somehow, but most importantly, Chris had to make sure that he himself was alright, too.

With newfound determination he scanned the room he now stood in, and for the first time he realized just how gruesome the sight of it was. The floor was made of concrete but it dipped downward the closer one got to the center, and a pool of water had collected there. The walls were made of brick, a faded red, the shade nearly brown in colour and it reminded him of old blood.

“I’ve… I’ve seen worse,” Chris told himself, and he thought back to all the horror movies he had seen with Josh. He truly had seen worse in those films. This was nothing compared to that. Chris felt… _Brave_.

* * *

Chris had been walking now for several minutes. The hallway outside the room he had awoken in was narrow and dirty, filthy in spirit and physicality as the eery nature of it didn’t vibe well with him. Sometimes the walls would be made from different materials as he continued walking, switching to chain links and then back to brick or concrete again. It was a mess, and more than anything he missed his friends.

More wandering. More hallways. A labyrinth of concrete and rot laid out before him, yet still he was relatively unafraid, and he didn’t know why. The stakes felt high, and still, he remained unfaltering in his step.

* * *

He nearly tripped over wire that ran from one wall to the other as he walked, the red lighting making it nearly impossible to see, and though for some reason he thought of stepping on it just to see what would happen, he jumped over it instead. He walked further down the hallway and turned back to look at the trip wire. A glass bottle lay at his feet, and he bent over to pick it up. He was a good ways away from the wire now, and he had to know why it was there. He threw the bottle, hoping that it would hit its target, and in a few moments the bottle landed on the wire.

* * *

An explosion shook the hallway and boomed in Chris’s ears throwing him backward as shrapnel tore at his cloths. With a pained thump he hit the concrete of the hallway and blinked hard and fast as he swiped at his ears.

“Holy hell!” he screamed, he couldn’t hear anything, but slowly his ears stopped ringing and he sighed in relief. “Holy hell,” he repeated, and he sat up as he looked back down the hallway. A small crater was blown into the floor and walls that the string was connected to, and Chris winced. His body hurt, especially his back, and he couldn’t help but shudder as he realized just how stupid he was. Did he want to get himself killed? What was wrong with him?

“Talk about curiosity killing the cat,” he murmured, and he pushed himself upward, slowly as not to hurt himself, and began walking carefully down the hallway in the opposite direction of the exploded bomb.

He took small, calculated steps, his arms wrapped around his middle as he listened to the sound of leaking pipes and the hissing of insects. Everything was getting back to its normal horrifying self, but then he heard footsteps coming from down the hall in front of him.

He stopped and froze, his eyes getting wide as he stared off into the blackness before him. He looked around himself. Up the hallway a small bit further was a doorway, he could run inside the room and hide, maybe the person walking toward him was the same guy who tied him to the wall before. Maybe it was a murderer. Chris shook his head and looked to his feet. Off to one side of the hallway there was a broken piece of pipe, he could use it to fight whoever was coming down the hallway, but did he really want to do that? Maybe it would be smarter to hide.

Fight? Or hide?

Chris froze up as he weighed the options, and he knew he had to make a decision fast. Without a second thought he threw all his caution to the wind and ran to the broken pipe. Chris wasn’t the hiding type, he would fight, and if he went down swinging then at least he would have injured whoever had taken him and his friends to the place they were all trapped in.

The sounds he made when he stumbled over to the pipe and picked it up had made whoever it was that walked toward him stop moving. Their steps faltered, and then Chris heard something clunk against the floor. _Oh no,_ he thought. _They’ve got a weapon too._

“I got a big-ass baseball bat and I’m not afraid to use it!” shouted the voice, and Chris jumped backward.

“Wait a second,” he called back. “ _Mike_?”

“Chris?” came the other voice, and Chris took a step closer with his pipe still in hand, and out of the darkness came a disheveled and shivering Michael Monroe. He wore a plaid long-sleeved shirt paired with a white t-shirt, and his eyes looked absolutely _hollow_. It was so hot inside whatever building Chris had been walking through, so he was surprised to see that Mike was shivering with cold.

“Dude…” he murmured, taking in the sight of Mike with relief. “You okay?”

“Am I _okay_? _What_?” Mike asked, nearly laughing out the words as he looked himself over. “Do I look okay Chris? Where are the others? This place isn't normal, I’ve seen all this shit and I killed these things! And holy shit Chris! I saw-”

“Mike! Mike calm down, alright buddy?” Chris said, and he let his swinging stance fall into a more relaxed position as he stepped closer to his friend. The boy shrugged backward, his baseball bat raised and ready to swing down as if he’d never met Chris before in his life, and Chris gave him a look as he stepped backward.

“Mike,” Chris said. “Slow down, tell me everything, man. I don’t know anything right now, you’re the first person I’ve seen.”

“Where. Is. Jessica?” Mike asked, and all Chris could do was shrug, but then he remembered seeing her fall through the floor and his gaze fell to his feet. He shook his head.

“Have you seen Ashley?” Chris asked.

“No,” Mike said, and he looked to the ground as if he were feeling ashamed of his answer just as Chris had. “But are you sure you haven't seen Jessica?”

“I’m sorry man, seriously… No, I haven’t. You really are the first person I’ve seen here. I just woke up.”

“But how do I know you’re actually Chris, hmm? Why are you so calm?” Mike asked, his swinging stance unwavering and his eyes ablaze with alarm and determination. He looked at Chris as though at any second he would go full on Silent Hill on him, transforming with the darkness into a horrific beast, and Chris didn’t know what he could say to appease Mike.

“I really don’t know Mike, I swear! I just…” And Chris paused then, allowing himself to breathe as he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “This place makes me feel so… I don’t know the word for it.”

“Well start thinking, asshat,” barked Mike, adjusting his hold on the baseball bat, and Chris winced.

“I feel… _Invincible_ ,” he said, and he didn’t know where the word came from. When Chris looked to his friend, dirty and sweating and shivering, he saw only confusion, and in sync both boys sighed.

“You are one strange cookie,” said Mike, but as if Chris’ answer was enough for him, he let himself finally relax and retired his baseball bat. “But shit… I _need_ to find Jess, man. I need to find her… Chris… I’ve seen things here, I’ve- I’ve-” But Mike couldn’t finish his sentence. He looked a mess, tears obviously fighting to burn through his eyeballs and scorch his face, and the pained expression he now wore as he remembered Jessica nearly made Chris want to double over and start crying himself. But he didn’t. He _couldn’t_. He didn’t have it in him to be weak at the moment, because he knew that he had to be strong. Strong for Ashley and now both Mike and Jessica, because for some reason he really _did_ feel invincible in this place.

“Alright,” said Chris, stepping forward and putting a hand on Mike’s shoulder, feeling the boy shudder under his touch before he wiped at his eyes. “We have to keep moving,” Chris continued. “We have to find the others, and no matter what, dude, we _can’t_ die.”

* * *

Chris listened attentively as Mike spoke, the boy explaining what had happened to him when he woke up alone in a room much like Chris’s, only the walls were caked with fresh blood. He told a horrific tale, one with zombies that had glowing white eyes wielding knives, their heads wrapped tight with barbed wire in a desperate attempt to keep the skin of their faces from falling away, and Chris shuddered. But Mike was a badass, killing five of them over the course of the last half hour before he ran into Chris, and by the time he reached the end of his story he seemed more relaxed, as if having someone there with him was all he needed to feel strong and cocky as he usually did. That was a good thing though, Chris noted. A strong Mike meant his chances of survival and finding Ashley and Josh - and the others - went up by a massive leap, and gratefully, he nudged one of Mike’s shoulders with a fist.

“Thank God I’ve got you,” he said. “I’m serious, I can’t believe you took down five of those things, I hope we don’t run into any.”

“I’m not worried about _us_ running into any, I’m more worried about…”

Mike didn’t have to finish that sentence, because Chris knew that all Mike thought about was Jessica. Jessica and her perfect hair and corny smile and cute dimples. The memories Chris had of her were relatively warm, and as his mind inevitably wondered to Ashley, he almost found himself smiling. He just had to stay hopeful.

Chris pushed all thoughts of girls away as he focused back on the length of hallway him and Mike were still walking, noting that the ground was getting… softer. It felt almost gooey now, and he exchanged a look with Mike who slowed his pace.

“What the hell?” Mike murmured, and he bent down at the knees and poked a finger into the sludge. “It’s dirt,” he said. “It’s just… soggy earth.”

“But we’re still inside,” said Chris, and Mike rolled his eyes.

“Thanks captain obvious.”

Chris didn’t respond to that, instead he raised the pipe he still carried with him and let it rest on his shoulder. As Mike came to stand, an odd rush of air wafted down the hallway.

“Whoa,” Chris murmured. “You feel that?” And Mike nodded his head, the two turning fully to look down the hallway in the direction they were walking. A strong draft was now coursing down its length, bringing with it the smell of rain soaked earth and damp wood.

“This tunnel must lead outside,” said Mike, and he started moving, taking quick and daring strides down the hallway, and Chris struggled to keep up with him as the two started jogging.

“What do you think is at the end?” he asked, and Mike shrugged as he got his baseball bat ready in case he needed to swing quickly, but before long, they reached the end of the hallway. A single, wooden door with a black knob was directly in front of them, and Chris brushed his fingers against it. It was cool to the touch, and when he gave Mike a cautious look, the other boy nodded his head, gesturing for him to go ahead and open the door.

“On three,” said Chris, and Mike nodded again, his shoe laces wiggling in the breeze drafting in from under the door, and Mike raised his bat.

“Three,” he whispered, and both him and Mike swallowed hard. “Two…” Chris couldn’t hear anything moving behind the door, so he forced himself to stay calm and determined. “One.”

He twisted the knob and pushed, the door swinging outward, and a blast of wind hit the two like a brick wall, blowing Mike’s plaid shirt wildly around him like a cape and Chris had to shield his eyes.

“Whoa,” he heard Mike gasp, and Chris felt the boys hand come to rest on his shoulder. Finding comfort in his proximity to Mike, Chris dared open his eyes to the wind, and what he saw beyond the open doorway was something he never expected.

“What the hell?” he coughed, and he took in the network of houses and buildings he was now seeing. The two had somehow come to a place that still felt as though it were indoors, even though it was clearly outside. Ahead of them was a town, built entirely of rotting wood and stone, and it looked like something out of a movie who's protagonists were Pioneers. They now stood on a dirt road, and on either side of them was thick, un-penetrable forest, and no way were the two of them going in there. It was dark out, almost pitch black thanks to the night and starless sky, and the few lit oil-lamps inside the windows of shack houses inside the town barely gave off enough light for them to see. There was only one way to go, and that was straight ahead and into the town, under the wooden archway that marked the beginning of the settlement.

“I’ll be damned,” sighed Mike in confusion. “What the hell is this place anyway… Talk about Little House on The Prairie.”

“You said it,” Chris murmured, and as the wind picked up again, he realized that it carried with it a restless sound, a sound that he hadn’t heard before, but when he looked to Mike, he realized in horror that the other boy recognized it.

“ _Shit_ ,” Mike whispered. “It’s those things.” Instantly he had his bat at the ready, and Chris raised his pipe and got into a fighting stance, but still he couldn’t see any zombie-like creatures limping around on the large dirt road that lead up and into the town. But then… Chris saw movement.

“Oh crap, look!” he whispered, but he was too alarmed and it came out a bit more like a shout. “There, on the right side of the archway.” Mike froze when his eyes landed on what Chris was talking about.

“Don’t… Move…”

Mikes words were the first thing that drove fear into Chris’s stomach. It was a painful feeling, like he was falling, and he realized then how used he had become to feeling unafraid, but for some reason, Mike’s fear was leeching its way into him somehow, and he hated it. He opened his mouth to speak, to say _anything_ , but before he could, he noticed that the far off zombie had stopped moving, its head whipping around as Chris took a small step away from Mike, and its glowing white eyes burned into Chris’s.

“Fuck,” both him and Mike voiced in unison, and as they adjusted the grip they had on their weapons, the zombie raised the rusted blade it wielded and let out a blood chilling shriek. And then it was moving, breath catching in its throat as it gargled on something and hobbled over to them in a frenzy, desperately trying to reach them so it could flay their flesh, but Chris sighed in relief at the sight of its slow pace.

“Okay, _jeez_! That was dramatic... We can handle that,” he said, trying to sound confident as he looked to Mike, but the boy didn’t look so sure. “It’s just one slow-ass zombie, what could go wrong?”

“UUUUM!” Mike interrupted, and his eyes went insanely wide at the sight of something in the town, and when Chris looked back to the zombie, his jaw dropped. Charging toward them - each one brandishing a weapon - were at least thirty blood drenched zombies, each wearing tattered and torn cloths matching the state of their decaying skin perfectly.

“Fuck!” yelled both Chris and Mike, because turning back wasn’t an option, the hallway behind them was just a straight run for at least half an hour and the zombies wouldn't get tired even though _they_ would.

“Okay!” Chris said, readying himself to charge forward and at the last second fake to the right and run past the group of zombies. “We can still do this! We just have to remember that we’re faster!”   
  
Mike nodded his head, a look of worry and fear and absolute panic making his pupils look massive, and his hands were shaking. In surprise, Chris realized that his own hands were steady as an undisturbed pond. He would have stopped to reflect on that if he had the time, but when the sound of a monstrous roar cracked through the night, making the collective howls and cries of the zombie horde seem small and gentle, Chris swallowed hard. The roar had come from inside the town, and that was exactly where they had to go... But they could still make it, Chris told himself that over and over again as he waited for the perfect moment to start running, but when the sound of a chainsaw buzzing to life cut through the air, he felt his knees lock in place.


End file.
